Much like the whole 'Sinjin photo collection' goldmine, Sikowitz's inclusion was something of a perfect accident. What I told my insane acting teacher the night it happened was mostly true – I had gone to a party and Beck was meant to meet me there; we were meant to meet up when we both arrived, but his rehearsal had gone on a little long – for his 'method acting' final, he had to do a monologue and then explain how he got into the character, blah, blah, blah. I would have waited until he finished then went to the party late, but my dad was throwing one of his own parties and if I was caught around the house when it started, I knew I'd never escape. So I headed out by myself, intent on at least having a dance or two before my beloved boyfriend arrived.

The issue was, I hadn't factored in one important detail; Ryder would be there. If I had known, I wouldn't have had my first or second drink, because I hadn't been around him drunk since I found out about Tori, since starting this twisted little game; drunken Jade is loud, abrasive and if you thought I spat out harsh truths while sober, you have no idea how harsh I get when I've had a drink or two. I couldn't trust myself not to go off at him about Tori, and ruin the entire plan. He couldn't find out that I knew, it'd destroy everything me and Beck had worked so hard on the last few months.

I didn't notice he was there until he arrived at my side with a drink for me in hand – which I so obviously didn't even touch. Before Tori, of course I would have – it was Ryder for Christ sakes. I would never have thought he'd do something like that to a girl. But now I know? Well, I sure as shit wasn't risking it. But I couldn't cover up my anger and hatred of him, so I turned on my heel and left. And of course, the dickhead followed me.

I won't lie – I was kind of scared. This boy was in love with me. And I'd led him on to seriously think he had a chance, that we were secretly dating and together; we hadn't fucked because I really, really, really didn't want him anywhere near me, but we'd made out (just his touch made me shudder, but thankfully, he took it as shudders of pleasure, not disgust). And now he was following me down darkened residential street. What he did to Tori...what was to stop him trying the same with me? He wanted me, what if he just decided to have me, even if I refused? As much as I threatened people with my scissors, I'd never actually hurt someone with them. Ryder would be the first.

It was sheer, dumb luck that the house I finally stopped outside was Sikowitz's. Or maybe it wasn't? Maybe my subconscious recognised the house from that first year, when we had to stay in character the whole time. Either way, stopping outside of that specific house on that specific street when I finally had enough of Ryder following and complaining how it wasn't safe – excuse me?! I think I was a lot safer on a quiet residential LA suburb than in a car with a sicko date-rapist and sadist. When I told him I wasn't going home, but going to Beck's, he grabbed my arm (which hurt and not in the good way) and started acting like a possessive boyfriend – which half made sense, since we'd slipped in the whole 'Beck hits me' tactic at this point.

I was worried the plan was over – kaput. That'd I'd have to actually hit Ryder to get him away from me, that I'd have to call the police and accuse Ryder of attacking me for real and far earlier than I had planned out. They still had no inkling of who the stalker was right now, after all. But if he didn't let me leave, and take his hand of my arm, I didn't know what I would do.

Queue that crazy drama teacher, aptly named 'Sikowitz' (because who hasn't made the connection to 'Psycho-witz' instead? Like, honestly). I had issues with the teacher, to be honest. Before Tori killed herself, I knew that the teacher had slowly started to dislike me a bit – nothing extreme, but multiple times I had called him out – even Tori had called him out – for never giving me a lead roll, even when my auditions had been better than Tori's. It got to the point that Tori was getting embarrassed over getting lead roles from Sikowitz, because she had realised she wasn't getting them because of her talent but because Sikowitz favoured her. God, before the summer, before that damn party, Tori had mentioned taking a step back from the acting classes in favour of focusing more on her singing, as she knew that was the direction she wanted to take her career, becoming a pop star instead of an actress.

But that crazy teacher was a God send that night, when I was stuck outside his house with an insistent date-rapist I'd gaslit into thinking was my secret boyfriend. He came striding out of his house looking like the stern and no-nonsense teacher he had never been in school before and managed to chase Ryder off.

Standing around tipsy and in a mini dress in my teachers house isn't exactly the most common or usual thing in the world. In a different kind of tale, this is where the bad stuff would happen. Female student alone and drunk with a male teacher? But even as much as Sikowitz annoyed me, I knew there was no risk of that whatsoever. But either way, it was still awkward as all hell, because we both knew that I wasn't going to Beck's just to say goodnight before heading home. It would be insulting to think Sikowitz actually believed that.

Beck arrived in record time, meaning I only had to spend a little bit of time alone and awkward with a teacher late at night, thank God. Needless to say, he was furious when he saw the hand print bruise on my arm; ironic, kind of, since I was often covered in bruises from his own fingers digging in too tightly while we fucked or even just made out. But then again – this was different. This bruise didn't come from him. It came from a boy we both know is more than capable of leaving a few bruises. Needless to say, if I was going to any more parties before this whole thing was over, I'd not go without Beck. He was a fantastic 'Creep Deterent'.

Still, even later that night, as I lay in the RV, Beck's sleeping body right behind me, spooning me closely, molded to my own shape and the curve of my slightly curled up body, an arm tight around my waist, his knees pressing up against the back of mine, staring at the darkness in front of me, I couldn't help but remember Sikowitz's photograph wall. Remembering that photo of Tori on his wall, I couldn't help but feel so angry at her. I had been angry at her a lot recently. Why didn't she tell us? Why didn't she even just tell someone. No one would have judged her. I wanted to grab her by her bony shoulders and shake her until her brain rattled and it got through to her that she needed to tell someone – we weren't mind readers. We were selfish, stupid teenagers too wrapped up in ourselves and our own shitty problems to notice that she was dealing with so much. If she'd just told us, we could have helped. We could have done something, anything, to protect her, to make her feel better, to not feel so alone.

But because she didn't tell us, and we were too stupid and selfish to notice, she did something no one can reverse or make better. Because she was a silly little girl with not-silly not-little problems piling up on her narrow shoulders and sometimes, it's easier to just let yourself sink under the waves and let the current tug you along to oblivion, rather than fighting to keep your head above water.

I know that better than anyone.